


Interludio

by inlightofvisa



Series: The McCall-Hale Diaries [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale is a Cuddly Kraken, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Mornings, THIS IS BASICALLY THE SAME AS INGESTING A BAG OF SUGAR, You Have Been Warned, morning breath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlightofvisa/pseuds/inlightofvisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't exactly a morning person, but he's better at mornings than Derek. Which isn't saying much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interludio

**Author's Note:**

> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/31861347100/wake-up  
> Almost half a year late. Ain't no thang.
> 
> Interludio is Italian for Interlude! :D

Sunlight lances in gently through the gaps in Derek’s blinds. Stiles shifts subtly on the bed, resting his chin on Derek’s hair. The door slides slowly open and Mrs. McCall pokes her head in.

“I have breakfast ready,” she mouths at Stiles. He nods, grinning. Mrs. McCall smiles back at him before closing the door with a snick.

“Hey,” he says into Derek’s hair. Derek, Stiles has learned, is a cuddle monster. A cuddling kraken. He cuddles with his arms and legs, making the warmest, snuggliest, most inescapable love-cage ever known to man. Or to Stiles. Not that other people have been in the Derek McCall-Hale love-cage. “Hey, creeper, wake up.”

Derek snorts and nestles his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck, muttering something warm and soft against his skin. Stiles moves again, this time bringing Derek’s arm out from underneath his body.

“Your arm is going to fall off if you keep letting me sleep on it,” he hisses playfully, resting it on top of the sheets.

“Mrrr,” Derek says, pawing at Stiles’ stomach. Stiles just laughs, because the McCall-Hale boys are _both_ giant puppies. He rubs at Derek’s belly, maybe copping a feel of his boyfriend’s abs while his hands are there. Never let it be said that Stiles was not opportunistic.

“Mom has breakfast ready for us,” Stiles tries, because the other similarity between the McCall-Hale boys is that they both think with their stomachs. A lot. At least a good 75% of the time. Derek just moans and then wedges himself closer to Stiles. “If you don’t get up, you get morning breath kisses.”

When that fails to work, Stiles ends up cashing in his threat because he is an honest person, okay, and Derek’s eyes fly open at the sensation of something on his mouth.

“Ugh,” he says, swiping at his mouth after they break apart. “Morning breath.”

“I _did_ warn you,” Stiles says, pecking at the corner of Derek’s lips. “You didn’t make any movement, so then I just had to follow through.”

Derek pouts at him before running his fingers up and down his side.

“Morning,” he ends up saying sleepily. Stiles grins goofily at him and leans their foreheads together.

“Mom has breakfast downstairs,” he says again. Derek wrinkles his nose and glares at Stiles. “And I haven’t brushed my teeth yet because you are the freaking _kraken_ and I am but a mere ship, okay? Stop it.”


End file.
